


Valerius's Beloved

by 1V1



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dark fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, F/M, Grooming, Implied Murder, Implied Valucio, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulation, Yandere, Yandere!Valerius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: Yandere!Valerius, dark fic.M/M first chapter, F/M secondA servant in the palace, Valerius guides you to your own demise. And by the end, you come to understand that escaping his love will be impossible





	1. Male Reader

Shy. You had once been like that. Shy and avoiding anything that might have ended with you getting attention. Yet no matter what you did, or how well you did it, you always seemed to end up in his vicinity. Always serving meals when he was present. Put on wine pouring duty when he was a guest. Delivering messages to his office, an errand added to your list, sending you to his estate to drop something off. It was a strange inevitable magnetism. 

Then it started. His nearness. The way he’d reach out and brush your arm in passing. The way he held his wine glass out, making you be closer than normal. Pale lavender eyes following you as you’d be cleaning and he’d be working. You ignored it of course. He was the consul, you, a lowly servant. He barked order and would sneer at any who dared challenge him or fail in their task or duty- but not you.

Never did he seem to direct his anger at you.

You were afraid- he was always so calm near you, so gentle almost when he made requests and orders of you. And when you tested him- spilling wine on the floor of his office he had simply remarked it was a pity, and to please clean it up.  
Any other servant would have gotten a verbal lashing at least, wages garnished, yet he just was so passively calm, as if he wanted to be nice to you. You never spoke really, averting your eyes when you’d look up and see him staring, watching. He was fair with you, tipping you when you arrived at his estate with documents. Each time he’d invite you in, but you’d declined. You had other work and you were so uncertain to his reasons. To why he showed you such favor. 

That had been an age ago. Now- now things were different. 

It started easily enough. You delivered a tray of cheeses and cured meats and other finger food to his office as per his request. A bottle of red precariously standing on the platter. Opening the door it almost fell- only to be caught by his hand, a strange look in his eyes.   
‘Are you busy?’ He’d asked, not looking directly at you. When you told him no, this was your last task for the day his lip and pulled back into a smile for a moment before he asked you to join him.  
‘It had been a long day, and I prefer to enjoy decent company than not.’ You were no such thing you said, just a servant.  
‘One who is quiet as a mouse, and mindful if their manners.’ He would take no excuse and with a firm order, made you sit and eat in silence with his company. 

So it began.

He was more pointedly verbal with you, more open and dare you’d say, welcoming to you. He made requests for it to be you to deliver his food, you to serve him, you to clean his office. Other servants speculated he fancied you, that he liked you. But you were a servant and even in his kindness he never let you forget it, calling you not by your name but by your title. Servant, always his servant.  
It got worse. His nearness, his kindness, the little gestures. He’d ask for two cups for his wine. Your favorite fruits to be delivered on a spread. Flowers you adored scented him, and even so far as colors brought into his office to ‘brighten’ the room. Things you never told him, but his eyes said he knew. He’d been watching you so long, learning every little thing about you, now you sometimes wondered what he didn’t know about you. He didn’t gift anything to you then. If he had you might have simply thought him seeking company of the more carnal sort. It wasn’t uncommon after all, for a nobleman to take a servant to their bed to keep it warm at night. 

His gift was his kindness, and the lure to your demise his smile. The smile that made you think him human, that made you dismiss the other servant’s whispers of him, of his cruelty and his malicious tendencies. You should have listened to them. Should have avoided him when he began to smile more and more, when he began to ask you questions about himself, when he began to suggest ways to act, to do, to be ‘better’.  
All to better please him in the end.

How much a fool you’d been, falling into his trap. Into ignoring the dark hunger in his eyes and looking only as his smile, carefully crafted over the years- a politician at his finest. It was the winter solstice, and as most of the palace staff were finishing their tasks you were summoned by the strange consul. An offer for the new year he said. Quit your work at the palace and work at his estate. He needed a new head of staff who could deal with others and didn’t offend him. You were a perfect fit he said. Everything he’d been looking for. The offer of wages was double than those in the palace and like a smitten fool you’d accepted. Start tomorrow he said. Quit tonight. Don’t tell of course, he didn’t want anyone coming to him looking for a job.

So you did.  
Like a fool.  
So the next day you arrived at his estate, none knowing who your new employer was, who had lured from the safety of the palace. 

Some kind, so welcoming, so eager.   
‘A drink’ he said, the red wine darker than anything you’d drunk before, ‘to your new position’.  
Dark- how you woke, naked, a gold chain attached to a leather collar. Cuffs on your wrists and ankles. A room gilded in gold and marble yet void of a window, illuminated only by the fire of candles and sconces. He came and smiled so cruelly, his eyes dark with manic desire.   
‘Welcome my pet, to your new home.’ Your panic frantic questions made him smile wider, delight dancing in his words as he explained. 

How shy, sweet and demure you were. How you avoided so many, how innocent and quick to trust and act. He wanted you. Wanted to take you and ruin you. But oh, he couldn't’t just abduct you. No. He had to make you do it yourself. Earning your trust, making you desire and look forward to his company. He say you know, the way you looked at him, he knew you wanted him too. So he made his plan carried it out. And you followed his commands perfectly. Now- you were his. His pet. You left work so abruptly, telling none where you’d gone. A missing servant would get not investigation. Much less one who seemed excited to leave employ. In public little would change for him- though he’d miss the sight of you in your uniform at the palace. But to know you were his, waiting for him dutifully, sitting so pretty on your bed, excited to see your master-

You had raged and fought him then. Had screamed and cursed him as he’d bound you and kissed you. Stealing everything from you. 

That had been months ago.  
Now, sitting on the bed of silk and soft cottons you looked at the flowers by the dresser. Your favorite colors. You days were dull. You dressed if he wanted you to. Danced if he commanded it. Read for him, brushed his hair. You’d tried to kill him, but each time he stopped you, hitting you, cutting you and reminding that you’d never escape. You were his. He loved you, was that so hard to see?

“Pet?” He opened the door, a bottle of wine in hand and a bouquet of your flowers in the other. “Oh my darling.” He seemed almost normal sometimes, almost human. “I see you ate all your food. Such a good pet.” He smiled, pouring wine as he motioned you to come to him. Your knees and hand had long gotten used to walking on the floor. It mattered little now, looking up to him, closing your eyes to drink the drugged wine. 

“Yes- good. Every drop my darling.” You swallowed the bitter drink knowing what came next. Limp, passive, you were putty and helpless as he picked you up, dancing with you in his arms to a melody he hummed to himself. Tonight he desired you like this- and long ago had you’d given up fighting him. If you fought he just forced it down your throat and took you on the floor. This way at least, he’d take you on the bed. 

Your eyes half open he cooed over your outfit, complimenting your choice- but what choice did you have, when everything around you was hi? Chosen by him. Your choice was nudity and his lust falling upon you in a rush, or clothes, and have him ‘seduce’ you. Set on the bed he smiled, kissing your neck, trying to arouse you as he undressed you and himself. Whispers of adoration.   
Possession.

He was good- his mouth working your sex taking your cock with skill until he would have you hilt in his throat. It was wonderful in a twisted way- the only pleasure you found when you were helpless and drugged under him, made to take and enjoy his attentions. You’d begun to crave it as of late. His touch, his attention.   
Your body could respond in kind hips bucking, thrusting into his mouth as he moaned, swallowing around you before you spilled, your captor and master climbing up your body, feeding you your own cum from his mouth. 

He pulled back, admiring you, cum dripping from slack jaw, eyes glassy, limp and pliant-  
It felt good when he removed the plug, your ass suddenly empty and making your whine at the loss. But it never lasted long. He would coo, soothing you as he thrust in, filling you up, rocking until he was deep enough his balls rested against you ass. 

You couldn’t reach up to touch him- that was against his rules. No touching unless you asked. Nothing you did could happen without his permission. Not unless it was cumming. Valerius let you cum as much as you wanted, provided it was on his cock, fingers or tongue. As he took his pleasure, you accepted what he gave in kind. Soft mewls and whimpers left you as he fucked you senselessly. As he bit your skin and slapped your flesh. Filthy depraved ramblings. You were his. He would not let them have you. No one could take you from him. You’d never leave him. He’d kill you. Kill anyone who say you, who helped you, you would dare even think about you.   
His.   
His.  
Utterly His.

The consul moaned your name- the only time he ever said it- and pulled out, smiling as he looked between your legs, lovingly almost as he saw cum drip from you abused ass. The drugs did their job. Made you boneless, pliant, yet able to feel everything. Evidence of your own twisted pleasure was scattered across your stomach, lines of white that Valerius cooed over, washing away with a damp cloth as he left and returned to clean you.

He did this often. Fucking you, then cleaning you, leaving you in the bed as he’d get up to admire ‘them’.

The reminders why you were so afraid to leave.   
A glass cabinet of gold, skulls lining the shelves. His beloved pets he said. All past from trying to leave. From escaping and getting killed. The reminder of his insanity, his depravity greeted you every time you looked to the wall, every day you woke. It was not so much the vastness of his collection that made you know how there was no hope for a true escape or rescue.  
It was the fact that Valerius would often go and pull out a gold gilded skull, cooing at it and speaking to it like a lover.

His beloved he said, his favorite pet, Lucio.


	2. Female Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Female Reader Version

Shy. You had once been like that. Shy and avoiding anything that might have ended with you getting attention. Yet no matter what you did, or how well you did it, you always seemed to end up in his vicinity. Always serving meals when he was present. Put on wine pouring duty when he was a guest. Delivering messages to his office, an errand added to your list, sending you to his estate to drop something off. It was a strange inevitable magnetism. 

Then it started. His nearness. The way he’d reach out and brush your arm in passing. The way he held his wine glass out, making you be closer than normal. Pale lavender eyes following you as you’d be cleaning and he’d be working. You ignored it of course. He was the consul, you, a lowly servant. He barked order and would sneer at any who dared challenge him or fail in their task or duty- but not you.

Never did he seem to direct his anger at you.

You were afraid- he was always so calm near you, so gentle almost when he made requests and orders of you. And when you tested him- spilling wine on the floor of his office he had simply remarked it was a pity, and to please clean it up.  
Any other servant would have gotten a verbal lashing at least, wages garnished, yet he just was so passively calm, as if he wanted to be nice to you. You never spoke really, averting your eyes when you’d look up and see him staring, watching. He was fair with you, tipping you when you arrived at his estate with documents. Each time he’d invite you in, but you’d declined. You had other work and you were so uncertain to his reasons. To why he showed you such favor. 

That had been an age ago. Now- now things were different. 

It started easily enough. You delivered a tray of cheeses and cured meats and other finger food to his office as per his request. A bottle of red precariously standing on the platter. Opening the door it almost fell- only to be caught by his hand, a strange look in his eyes.   
‘Are you busy?’ He’d asked, not looking directly at you. When you told him no, this was your last task for the day his lip and pulled back into a smile for a moment before he asked you to join him.  
‘It had been a long day, and I prefer to enjoy decent company than not.’ You were no such thing you said, just a servant.  
‘One who is quiet as a mouse, and mindful if their manners.’ He would take no excuse and with a firm order, made you sit and eat in silence with his company. 

So it began.

He was more pointedly verbal with you, more open and dare you’d say, welcoming to you. He made requests for it to be you to deliver his food, you to serve him, you to clean his office. Other servants speculated he fancied you, that he liked you. But you were a servant and even in his kindness he never let you forget it, calling you not by your name but by your title. Servant, always his servant.  
It got worse. His nearness, his kindness, the little gestures. He’d ask for two cups for his wine. Your favorite fruits to be delivered on a spread. Flowers you adored scented him, and even so far as colors brought into his office to ‘brighten’ the room. Things you never told him, but his eyes said he knew. He’d been watching you so long, learning every little thing about you, now you sometimes wondered what he didn’t know about you. He didn’t gift anything to you then. If he had you might have simply thought him seeking company of the more carnal sort. It wasn’t uncommon after all, for a nobleman to take a servant to their bed to keep it warm at night. 

His gift was his kindness, and the lure to your demise his smile. The smile that made you think him human, that made you dismiss the other servant’s whispers of him, of his cruelty and his malicious tendencies. You should have listened to them. Should have avoided him when he began to smile more and more, when he began to ask you questions about himself, when he began to suggest ways to act, to do, to be ‘better’.  
All to better please him in the end.

How much a fool you’d been, falling into his trap. Into ignoring the dark hunger in his eyes and looking only as his smile, carefully crafted over the years- a politician at his finest. It was the winter solstice, and as most of the palace staff were finishing their tasks you were summoned by the strange consul. An offer for the new year he said. Quit your work at the palace and work at his estate. He needed a new head of staff who could deal with others and didn’t offend him. You were a perfect fit he said. Everything he’d been looking for. The offer of wages was double than those in the palace and like a smitten fool you’d accepted. Start tomorrow he said. Quit tonight. Don’t tell of course, he didn’t want anyone coming to him looking for a job.

So you did.  
Like a fool.  
So the next day you arrived at his estate, none knowing who your new employer was, who had lured from the safety of the palace. 

Some kind, so welcoming, so eager.   
‘A drink’ he said, the red wine darker than anything you’d drunk before, ‘to your new position’.  
Dark- how you woke, naked, a gold chain attached to a leather collar. Cuffs on your wrists and ankles. A room gilded in gold and marble yet void of a window, illuminated only by the fire of candles and sconces. He came and smiled so cruelly, his eyes dark with manic desire.   
‘Welcome my pet, to your new home.’ Your panic frantic questions made him smile wider, delight dancing in his words as he explained. 

How shy, sweet and demure you were. How you avoided so many, how innocent and quick to trust and act. He wanted you. Wanted to take you and ruin you. But oh, he couldn't’t just abduct you. No. He had to make you do it yourself. Earning your trust, making you desire and look forward to his company. He say you know, the way you looked at him, he knew you wanted him too. So he made his plan carried it out. And you followed his commands perfectly. Now- you were his. His pet. You left work so abruptly, telling none where you’d gone. A missing servant would get not investigation. Much less one who seemed excited to leave employ. In public little would change for him- though he’d miss the sight of you in your uniform at the palace. But to know you were his, waiting for him dutifully, sitting so pretty on your bed, excited to see your master-

You had raged and fought him then. Had screamed and cursed him as he’d bound you and kissed you. Stealing everything from you. 

That had been months ago.  
Now, sitting on the bed of silk and soft cottons you looked at the flowers by the dresser. Your favorite colors. You days were dull. You dressed if he wanted you to. Danced if he commanded it. Read for him, brushed his hair. You’d tried to kill him, but each time he stopped you, hitting you, cutting you and reminding that you’d never escape. You were his. He loved you, was that so hard to see?

“Pet?” He opened the door, a bottle of wine in hand and a bouquet of your flowers in the other. “Oh my darling.” He seemed almost normal sometimes, almost human. “I see you ate all your food. Such a good pet.” He smiled, pouring wine as he motioned you to come to him. Your knees and hand had long gotten used to walking on the floor. It mattered little now, looking up to him, closing your eyes to drink the drugged wine. 

“Yes- good. Every drop my darling.” You swallowed the bitter drink knowing what came next. Limp, passive, you were putty and helpless as he picked you up, dancing with you in his arms to a melody he hummed to himself. Tonight he desired you like this- and long ago had you’d given up fighting him. If you fought he just forced it down your throat and took you on the floor. This way at least, he’d take you on the bed. 

Your eyes half open he cooed over your outfit, complimenting your choice- but what choice did you have, when everything around you was his? Chosen by him. Your choice was nudity and his lust falling upon you in a rush, or clothes, and have him ‘seduce’ you. Set on the bed he smiled, kissing your neck, trying to arouse you as he undressed you and himself. Whispers of adoration.   
Possession.

He was good- his mouth working your sex licking and sucking your clit with skill, fingers slipping into wet folds, finding your g-spot and making your body more and more slick, more and more wet for him. It was wonderful in a twisted way- the only pleasure you found when you were helpless and drugged under him, made to take and enjoy his attentions. You’d begun to crave it as of late. His touch, his attention.   
Your body could respond in kind hips bucking, thrusting into his mouth as he moaned, swallowing around you before you came, cunt clenching on his fingers, your captor and master climbing up your body, feeding you your own cum from his mouth. 

He pulled back, admiring you, cum dripping from slack jaw, eyes glassy, limp and pliant-  
It felt good when he removed his fingers, your cunt suddenly empty and making your whine at the loss. But it never lasted long. He would coo, soothing you as he thrust in, filling you up, rocking until he was deep enough his balls rested against you ass. 

You couldn’t reach up to touch him- that was against his rules. No touching unless you asked. Nothing you did could happen without his permission. Not unless it was cumming. Valerius let you cum as much as you wanted, provided it was on his cock, fingers, or tongue. As he took his pleasure, you accepted what he gave in kind. Soft mewls and whimpers left you as he fucked you senselessly. As he bit your skin and slapped your flesh. And he’d grab your breasts pinching your nipples, twisting them until they hurt. Muttering insanity- Filthy depraved ramblings. You were his. He would not let them have you. No one could take you from him. You’d never leave him. He’d kill you. Kill anyone who say you, who helped you, you would dare even think about you.   
His.   
His.  
Utterly His.

The consul moaned your name- the only time he ever said it- and pulled out, smiling as he looked between your legs, lovingly almost as he saw cum drip from your abused slit. The drugs did their job. Made you boneless, pliant, yet able to feel everything. Your body was flush with exertion, legs jelly as he would lift you, moving you to have your debauched sex on display for his viewing pleasure. He loved to gaze upon you like that, rambling how maybe you’d swell with a child, be a perfect mother- but it was a lie. He drugged your food, making it impossoble. He had confessed it so long ago. He’d never share you, not even with a child. Not even his own child. Yet he loved to look upon you like that. Valerius cooed over you, washing away the evidence of his cruelty with a damp cloth as he would leave and return to clean you.

He did this often. Fucking you, then cleaning you, leaving you in the bed as he’d get up to admire ‘them’.

The reminders why you were so afraid to leave.   
A glass cabinet of gold, skulls lining the shelves. His beloved pets he said. All past from trying to leave. From escaping and getting killed. The reminder of his insanity, his depravity greeted you every time you looked to the wall, every day you woke. It was not so much the vastness of his collection that made you know how there was no hope for a true escape or rescue.  
It was the fact that Valerius would often go and pull out a gold gilded skull, cooing at it and speaking to it like a lover.

His beloved he said, his favorite pet, Lucio.


End file.
